


Never Let Me Go

by infptwriter



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Not Beta Read, Post-Time Skip, spoilers manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24226537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infptwriter/pseuds/infptwriter
Summary: Love is hard.And Akaashi learns that some loves just aren't meant to happen.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Never Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> 24 hours later and here I am with more angst. Pls no judgment here okay I have a lot of pent up angst in my heart  
> Thank you SO much wingspikr for the amazing idea <3 i love you babe <3  
> Excuse any mistakes, this was not beta read.  
> SPOILERS MANGA AHEAD!!!  
> Enjoy!
> 
> (title of the ff inspired by never let me go by florence and the machine idk it just popped in my head like when i was finishing it lmao)

“Akaashi, I... I have romantic feelings for you.”

Perhaps Akaashi’s life hadn’t started before this specific moment. Everything before now suddenly had become uninteresting and unimportant. He feels stuck, eyes wide open and breath coming in short puffs. Bokuto is still staring at him, and his mouth starts moving again, but Akaashi feels under the water, barely listening.

“I have since high school. I feel unfair being around you and not telling you this… If you feel weird or grossed out, we can stop talking, but, I don’t know, Konoha said I should confess because you would give me heart eyes all the time and I…”

As his speech slowly dies and his confidence comes to a halt, Bokuto plays with his fingers on his lap. He’s sitting at Akaashi’s couch, this time being Akaashi’s turn to invite Bokuto to their monthly dinner. At first, after Bokuto got scouted and Akaashi was still in high school, it was almost a weekly dinner. Slowly, it became twice a month dinner. Then Akaashi got in college and Bokuto became even busier, turning it to officially once a month dinner. They hold onto the title even though there are times that more than four weeks pass without a dinner, but Bokuto’s career is a priority, so Akaashi always let it slide. But now, two years and a half since this started, Bokuto is sitting inside his tiny apartment close to his college and his internship, telling Akaashi that his love for Bokuto isn’t as unrequired as he thought.

“I mean, I hope I didn’t ruin our friendship or anything but – “

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi starts, his shaking hands slowly meeting Bokuto’s cold ones. He holds it dearly and smiles, meeting Bokuto’s eyes. “Koutarou.”

It’s quite funny, then, how _Koutarou_ ’s eyes widen. Akaashi laughs, feeling amazing at once, and in a spurt of the moment, he kisses him. At first, Bokuto doesn’t react much, but then he’s kissing eagerly and Akaashi feels _amazing_.

It is everything he had expect, even more. Bokuto has passion, a fire, but also a softness and a care under his touch that makes Akaashi’s skin feel like it’s on fire. They kiss and kiss, their noses bumping, their hands exploring, their laughter being shared, and smiles being exchanged.

“I like you, too, Koutarou,” Akaashi mumbles, already diving in for another kiss, but he sees Bokuto smiling and _blushing_ at him before he closes his eyes.

.

They have a simple agreement. They text often, more often than they already used to – which is quite a lot, to be honest. They call whenever they can, and their monthly dinner is suddenly a _must_. They try to see each other as much as possible, but at least once a month they go to each other’s apartments to have dinner together.

Of course, they never _just_ have dinner, considering how Bokuto’s mouth is distracting and Akaashi loves licking those abs, but those are details.

Akaashi has an internship in a manga publisher and ever since he started college, he never really imagined himself going to this direction. But now, working close to the editor, he really likes it. It’s a busy life, and Akaashi struggles sometimes to keep his good grades and his internship – the boss likes him, and the editor thinks he has future – but it’s worth it.

He does it not only for himself, he thinks, but also for Bokuto. He wants his boyfriend to be proud of him, just like he is proud of Bokuto. Of course, Bokuto got scouted right after high school to play in an amazing and promising team because of his crazy talent. He has much matured since high school, now being basically three years since those days. He doesn’t have those dejected moods anymore, and he doesn’t rely on others, even though the setter is the amazing Miya Atsumu and he _could_ rely on him all he want. Akaashi is long past through his jealousy at those amazing talented setters, but it’s still a fact he can’t deny. Akaashi had never been this talented, not like Myia is, or even Kageyama from Karasuno.

“Keiji, Konoha called me the other day! He wants to meet up anytime!” Bokuto continues on the phone, breaking Akaashi’s thoughts. He nods and then remembers Bokuto can’t see him.

“Sure, Koutarou. Tell me whenever you can and set it up with him. Maybe invite the other as well…” He mumbles, voice trailing off. It’s been quite some time since they got together, and it would be fun to do so.

“I have to check my schedule, ack! I swear I don’t have any days off these days!”

Akaashi hums as a response and lets Bokuto ramble his ear off. It’s been almost six months since they started dating and recently it has become harder and harder to see each other. Bokuto’s schedule is chaotic and he trains so much, is always traveling and playing in different places, Akaashi barely sees him these days. He doesn’t complain, though. It’s for Bokuto’s future and career. He will be happy for him, and he’s happy he’s getting those opportunities.

“Keiji, I forgot to mention, I can’t come on Wednesday!” Bokuto suddenly says and Akaashi’s blood runs cold. It’s their monthly dinner. They had set it up in a way that it fit both of their schedules. “There’s this training game we’re doing it last minute, so we’ll have to reschedule, maybe?”

Akaashi doesn’t answer for a second. He knows it. The moment he says he’s okay with it, it happens, they can reschedule, he _knows_ it’s when it won’t ever stop happening. The excuses will start to come easier and they will fall apart little by little.

 _Have some faith_ , he thinks to himself, and sighs quietly.

“I understand, Koutarou. It’s okay, we can reschedule.”

Bokuto beams at him and keeps rambling, but Akaashi is barely listening.

He doesn’t sleep much on Wednesday, feeling a rather bitter taste on his tongue.

.

At first, it was almost imperceptible. One excuse, once, then another, weeks later. It’s life, they both say, and make up for it when they have time. A sudden trip, a sudden game, a sudden deadline, and the excuses keep coming. It’s nothing, they say, it happens. But it keeps happening, non-stop, and they keep ignoring and saying it’s okay.

It was okay. Then, suddenly, it wasn’t anymore.

When was the last time we touched?, he thought. When was the last time we _kissed_?, he thought. The bitterness is a constant on his tongue now, and he feels ashamed, guilty and angry. The phone calls are shorter now, and mostly once a week, if he was lucky. Text messages feels dry and the ugliness that settled in Akaashi’s heart _isn’t_ leaving.

Then, he breaks.

.

Their first argument is over the phone.

Akaashi doesn’t even know why they are arguing anymore, all he knows is the bitterness on his mouth, the anger, the feeling of not being wanted, loved and cherished. He wants Bokuto to be there, to show he cares, and not just text him whenever, stop by for a quick fuck and leave for who knows how long.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he shouts, “you’re never even here to have the right to tell me if I’m right or wrong, then what’s the point, huh Koutarou?”

When he ends the call, he realizes he’s crying. He cries, angry and bitter tears, coming with loud and choking sobs, leaving him empty afterwards. It’s too much and he heads straight to bed afterwards, not even bothering to finish his dinner.

Bokuto is at his doorstep the next day, early in the morning.

They apologize and kiss franticly, turning it into a full make out session until they end up tangled and fucking in bed. Bokuto can’t stay long, just after lunch, and Akaashi is thankful it’s a Sunday and he doesn’t have work or college. They end up mostly in bed all morning, talking, kissing, doing it a second round and apologizing.

“I’ll make it work, Keiji. I’ll make sure I have more time for you. Nothing is more important than you.”

Akaashi wants to believe him. He wants to, so he nods and allows himself to be kissed and be dragged into the moment again.

.

As they near eight months into their relationship, he realizes they had never celebrated any of their months together. Anniversaries. It brings the bitterness into Akaashi’s mouth again, and he tries to ignore it while he’s working, but it’s a burden on his back. It makes him overthink this for hours until he’s home, calling Koutarou without even asking him if he could first.

“Keiji? What’s up?”

“I forgot to ask if I could call, I apologize,” he mumbles, suddenly self-conscious of what he had done. Perhaps Bokuto is busy.

“No, it’s okay! I was about to message you anyway, I just got out of the shower,” he says, beaming at the fact that Akaashi beat him on his plan. Before Akaashi could even muster anything to ask him, about his day or how he is, his mind reminds him of his previous overthinking and his mouth is even faster.

“Why haven’t we celebrated any anniversaries?” he blurts out, and face palms himself afterwards. It sounds stupid saying it out loud, but the thought just wouldn’t leave his mind all day.

“Huh?” Bokuto says and for a second Akaashi almost takes it back. But Bokuto suddenly understands it all and doesn’t let him do it. “Keiji, baby, I thought you wouldn’t care about that… But then let’s celebrate our eight month anniversary! It’s next week right? Thursday?”

Akaashi feels dumbstruck. _Talking, it’s all about communication, Keiji,_ he reminds himself and sighs in relief. All he had to do was ask. Talk. Be honest. That’s all.

“Yeah,” he says and smiles to himself, now feeling giddy and thinking of buying something to Bokuto. “Can you do it, though? How’s your schedule?”

“I was going to call you and say I have Thursday and Friday off! Well, the late afternoon and evening, I mean,” he mumbles at the end and Akaashi laughs, something he hasn’t heard himself do in a while.

 _He hasn’t been making you smile and laugh as much as you used to_ , his mind supplies, but he ignores it. He doesn’t want to think about this now, especially when they have this chance.

“What do you think of going out? Barbecue?”

Bokuto beams and Akaashi laughs again.

It doesn’t feel as good as it used to.

.

Thursday arrives and Akaashi feels giddy, excited all day. He has only one class that morning and he works during the afternoon. The editor notices his good mood and even plays around with him a bit, joking how young people these days get like this over anything. Akaashi banters with him, allows himself to feel giddy, because he has a _date_ with Bokuto at a barbecue restaurant, Bokuto’s favorite, to celebrate their eight month anniversary.

Akaashi gets home and takes a shower. He already planned everything. He ordered to Bokuto a cute wood keychain with their names written on the owl’s back, something simple but that he knew it would mean the world to Bokuto. He will meet Bokuto, talk, celebrate and give him the keychain at the end. Maybe they will end up in a bed together, if they have time, and Akaashi feels the happiness pour into him with the idea of having Bokuto all to himself.

He puts nice clothes on, a good shirt and a nice pair of pants. He cleans up well and arrives at the barbecue restaurant 5 minutes before they agreed to meet. He sits and orders some water, waiting patiently for Bokuto. They had last texted 2 hours previously and Bokuto said he was almost done with training. So, Akaashi was expecting him to be a bit late. It’s okay.

He waits for half an hour. Tries calling Bokuto, but it goes straight to voicemail. Maybe he ran out of battery and is late. He’ll be here soon, he tells himself, it’s only 7:30 pm. It’s early.

He plays with his cup and watches his phone again. 8:00 pm.

He orders some food around 8:45 pm. He is hungry. Bokuto is extremely late.

At 9:30 pm, he realizes he’s waiting for no one.

He goes home alone, with no phone calls or text messages from Bokuto, and a heavy heart.

.

After this, it doesn’t get any better.

Bokuto shows up the next day, full of apologies and sweet words. _I got home later than I expected, and when I lied on the bed for a second, I fell sleep and my phone ran out of battery, I’m so sorry!_ , he says over and over again. Akaashi lets him, saying it’s okay, and Bokuto promises to make up for it. He only manages to do so almost two weeks later, taking Akaashi to a fancy restaurant that doesn’t matter to him, trying to bribe him with sweet words and a heavy make out afterwards. Akaashi doesn’t give him his present. He doesn’t deserve this, he thinks, bitterly.

It feels good, as it always does, when they fall on the bed that night. Akaashi looses himself into it, but the dreading doesn’t fade away. He doesn’t feel as amazing as he would, or as excited. He does it because it’s what they do, he supposes.

Bokuto stays the night. When Akaashi wakes up, for the first time, they’re not tangled. In fact, they’re more apart than ever.

.

Slowly, their relationship die. Perhaps die is a hard word, Akaashi thinks, but it’s what fits best. They don’t have a monthly dinner anymore. They mostly call twice or three times a month if they’re lucky. Bokuto is always traveling, Akaashi barely sees him, and they text less frequently now.

Akaashi doesn’t feel like Bokuto is his boyfriend. He feels like a booty call, like a prostitute. Bokuto comes sometimes, they talk a bit, eat something and then they fuck, just like that. It’s not even about love anymore, and it feels so far away from when they once were in love. It’s mostly a reminder they still have at least this with each other, even if they have nothing left.

He feels dirty. The bitterness inside his mouth is constant now. Akaashi sometimes forget how Bokuto’s voice sound like. How his laugh sound like. How his _real_ moans sound like.

He feels alone, closed in that tiny apartment, drinking alone. Bokuto is off somewhere doing what he loves, pursuing what he deserves, and Akaashi is left behind, with the bitterness inside his mouth.

He never knew he could be jealous of volleyball.

Because Bokuto’s life is volleyball, not Akaashi. But Akaashi’s life had always been Bokuto, ever since the start.

.

It’s during their ‘sex glow up’ that Akaashi brings it up.

“Doesn’t it feel like we’re barely dating anymore?” he just mumbles, more to himself than to Bokuto himself, but he knows Bokuto heard him anyway, judging by the way he stiffens by his side.

“What?! No! What are you talking about, Keiji?” he asks, voice jumpy and nervous, like he’s being judged and watched by Akaashi. Perhaps he is.

“I haven’t seen you in a month and a half, Kou,” he mumbles back, letting the nickname slip between his tongue and teeth. It sounds natural but feels forced out of his throat. “Our one year anniversary was three months ago. You didn’t even remember it.”

“I remembered it!” he half shouts and sits up, already being worked up for an argument. What argument, Akaashi wonders, if he just said the truth? “I sent you a gift card and a plant!”

Akaashi looks at him, incredulously. “Gift card and plant? You really think that would make up for the fact you didn’t even send a _happy one year anniversary_ or some shit?! It was also a week later to the actual anniversary!”

“Why didn’t you send me anything either, then?” he’s shouting and Akaashi stands up with him, feeling his brows furrow. This isn’t how he wanted things to go.

“Because I thought you didn’t care. Why would I even think that?” he asks, feeling deflected, but there’s a fire inside of him, it’s consuming and too much and Bokuto looks dejected, too.

They both snap and they’re suddenly kissing again, this time so roughly, but Akaashi doesn’t mind. He wants to feel Bokuto being rougher, wants to feel his hands all over his body, strong, being _there_.

Later, when Bokuto’s asleep, Akaashi thinks how they never finished talking. They turned it into angry sex.

And when he wakes up, hours later, Bokuto is long gone, taking away Akaashi’s heart with him.

.

It doesn’t get better.

Angry sex is much more common, that’s if they ever get to see each other. They barely call, they barely text, and now Akaashi is sure he’s just a container for Bokuto, a place for him to come to release his pent up energy.

It’s always the same, with Bokuto randomly showing up, they kiss and fuck, and they don’t talk about it or their relationship. Sometimes, they try to talk but end up arguing and going for an angrier round 2.

It’s not healthy.

Akaashi would do anything for Bokuto. But he can’t allow Bokuto to break his heart any longer.

.

It’s almost two years after they started dating, and Bokuto once again shows up at Akaashi’s door at a random day, without any warning. Akaashi lets him in, quietly, and before Bokuto has the chance to pull him over Akaashi’s bedroom, he speaks up.

“Bokuto-san,” he says and Bokuto eyes suddenly are on him, wide and confused. Akaashi hasn’t called him like this in a long time. “We have to talk.”

“Why are you being so formal, Keiji?” Bokuto asks, looking already sad, worn out and defeated, like he already knows the answer but is asking anyway.

“Because I need to get used to it, again,” is all that Akaashi offers, with such a sad and broken smile. Bokuto hugs him, tight, and Akaashi feels the tears slipping off the corner of his closed eyes. He doesn’t want to break down, but they were best friends before anything. If he can save their friendship, he will do so.

“I can try harder, Keiji,” Bokuto whispers, so, so sadly in Akaashi’s ear, and Akaashi knows Bokuto has been hurting, too. He probably has been feeling guilty over everything. He probably has been hurting all by himself. Akaashi feels stupid, feels like they could fix everything and try again.

But that’s a fool’s dream. And he’s tired of hurting.

They hug for an awfully long time.

When they part ways, Bokuto leaves with a sad smile and a promise to keep in touch anyway. Akaashi smiles sadly at him and promises to keep in touch, too. Because their friendship is above everything, he promises, and he watches Bokuto walk away for a last time with Akaashi’s heart hidden in his pockets.

Akaashi breaks down as soon as the door is closed.

.

Time passes.

Akaashi learns how to heal. At some point, they make amends, and slowly start becoming friends again. It’s weird, and sometimes they slip up – calling each other their first names or remembering a memory from when they were _they_ – but they manage to create a friendship. It’s not much, but it’s enough. They meet sometimes, mostly with other friends from high school together, and they even manage to text each other once in a while as well. When Bokuto starts to become more acknowledged, as he is playing as a regular, Akaashi even goes to a few of his games.

He watches Bokuto from afar, mostly. He knows one day Bokuto will find someone, get married, perhaps have their own kids, grow old with someone, love someone else. Akaashi feels the bitterness, and it’s a welcomed feeling, the only thing he has left of their previous relationship.

They will never get back together. Akaashi will always watch Bokuto from afar, without being able to reach out, to touch him, hold him or have him. _It’s okay_ , he says.

Because he chose this. It was the right decision. He will always love Bokuto, he knows, and perhaps no love will compare to this one. He maybe will find someone to try to fill the void Bokuto left in him, and that’s okay. It’s better off this way.

The keychain, the one he bought Bokuto to their eight month anniversary is heavy on his pockets. He carries it everywhere, though. Because it’s a reminder of what they have.

What they will never have again.

Some loves just aren’t meant to happen anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> *hides in a corner* I'm sorryyyyyyyyyy  
> I hate myself, dw dw. Ugh. Just.  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated <3
> 
> (yell at me all you want on twitter, i swear i'm nice! @owlhashira)


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